


He Loved (Patton Centric)

by mt_reade



Series: Sanders Sides Short Stories! [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Hurt Morality | Patton Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders Needs a Hug, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Other, Patton is having a rough time, but he can deal with it on his own, right? He’s fine!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23889883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mt_reade/pseuds/mt_reade
Summary: Patton loved Joan's beanie.Patton used to steal it off of their head whenever they came over. The father figure would wear it around the house, and would always find creative ways to take it without alerting Joan. He did it so often, that he was actually a major suspect in the case once Joan had announced it missing.So, it wasn't a surprise to any of the others when Patton came home one day with a beanie of his own.It was a bright yellow, and it shone almost as brilliantly as Patton's radiant smile when he wore it. The beanie was warm and welcoming, and it was like Patton was wearing the sun itself atop his head. He loved it so much, it seemed, he refused to take it off. None of the others could actually remember seeing him without it for some time now. But, none of them ever said anything about it. It made the father seem so happy when he wore it, so unable to part with it, that the hat was almost a sanctity. Untouchable.Patton had picked the beanie up for a very specific reason that day. Under the glow of the sun, oftentimes people forgot about the shadows that it casted.—Please check TW’s in the notes at the top of the chapter!
Series: Sanders Sides Short Stories! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721833
Comments: 14
Kudos: 89





	He Loved (Patton Centric)

**Author's Note:**

> TW: angst, illness, description of symptoms, sad ending

Patton loved.

Patton loved cookies, and cats. Patton loved the rainbow, and the smell of pizza in the oven. Patton loved the sound of rain on window sills, and hot chocolate in front of a blazing fire. Patton loved his friends more than anything, and their hugs were his world. Patton loved lots of things.

Patton loved Joan's beanie.

Patton used to steal it off of their head whenever they came over to the flat that he, Thomas, Logan, Roman, and Virgil shared. The father figure would wear it around the house, and would always find creative ways to take Marco, the orange beanie with a nickname, without alerting Joan. He used one of those T-Rex extendable chompy toys that you could get for cheap at your local toy store once. He did it so often, that he was actually a major suspect in the case once Joan had announced Marco missing.

So, it wasn't a surprise to any of the others when Patton came home one day with a beanie of his own.

He had brought it in with the groceries, and none of them even saw it disappear into the washing hamper. But, Patton was quick to start wearing it all of the time. It was a bright yellow, and it shone almost as brilliantly as Patton's radiant smile when he wore it. The beanie was warm and welcoming, and it was like Patton was wearing the sun itself atop his head. The beanie quickly integrated itself into Patton's everyday wear. He loved it so much, it seemed, he refused to take it off. None of the others could actually remember seeing him without it for some time now. But, none of them ever said anything about it. Not even Logan, who found wearing a hat indoors impractical, since the hat can't really perform its intended purpose while inside, could find it in him to mention it to Patton. It made the father seem so happy when he wore it, so unable to part with it, that the hat was almost a sanctity. Untouchable.

Patton had picked the beanie up for a very specific reason that day. Under the glow of the sun, oftentimes people forgot about the shadows that it casted.

\--

Patton worried.

Patton worried about if he was doing things right, and about if he'd burn another dinner. Patton worried about the constant threat of spiders hiding underneath the couch, and about if he told the others that he loved them enough. Patton worried about how reliant Logan was on coffee, and about Roman's obsessive perfectionist tendencies. Patton worried about Virgil staying up late again, and about how Thomas thought of himself. Patton worried about lots of things.

But, Patton never wanted to worry his friends.

It was laundry day. Laundry day wasn't a set day of the week, it was sort of just whenever Patton figured that everyone was probably in need of some newly cleaned clothes. Also, and perhaps more importantly, when all of his roommates were out of the house for the afternoon. Thomas had told him that he had done his own laundry the night before, so Patton was only going to be doing the others' today.

He set out around on his rotations, an empty laundry basket in hand. Well, almost empty. Patton had already tossed in the cardigans and shirts that he needed done. 

He stopped at Logan's room first, pushing the door open gently. Logan was always organized, and his bedroom kept immaculate. He couldn't stand things being disorganized. So, Patton didn't have to scour for his laundry. He emptied out Logan's hamper into the basket, which consisted mostly of nice button-up shirts and dress pants, along with a tie or two. Then the usual pairs of socks. Patton shivered, it was so cold in here all of a sudden.

He was off to Virgil's room next. Virgil's room was a bit harder. Sometimes his clothes made it into the hamper, sometimes he just strewed them across the back of a chair, or left them hanging off of his bed, or just crumpled around the base of the hamper from when he threw them and missed. Patton pulled out the jeans and sweaters from the hamper, and grabbed a couple of things off of the floor, adding them to his load. He had to pause a moment, and leaned against the wall as his head stopped swimming, and his vision returned to normal. He was always a bit lightheaded whenever he stood up too quickly. When the ground felt stable under his feet, Patton moved along, making sure to close the door behind him before heading off again.

Roman's room was upstairs. Patton stared at the flight of carpeted stairs in dismay. He felt dizzy, and this laundry was already feeling heavy in his arms. The stairs actually only went up one floor, and there was only twelve steps in total. But they looked, and felt, like _miles_. He was getting more and more fatigued lately, even though he was sleeping fine. He knew that that was expected, but he didn't really want to admit how daunting the task of simply climbing a staircase was now. Patton did his best to ignore it. They were just stairs, he could do this. He took them one step at a time, only having to stop once, when he had to set the basket of clothes on the stair in front of him for a moment, as he caught his breath.

But it was only for a moment. Soon, he was entering Roman's room. His bedroom was like one fit for a king, with luscious pillows and golden decor. His clothing was no different. His clothes were mostly white, and needed their own load, or needed to be dry cleaned. So there was never much in the artist's hamper. A couple of paint smocks maybe, a few pairs of silky pyjamas, occasionally Patton would throw in his scarlet bomber jacket, things like that.

Patton finished up in there, and he knew this was the time he was supposed to leave. But, Roman's bed looked so comfortable, and Patton was feeling increasingly nauseous. Maybe he should just lay down a moment. Roman wouldn't mind, surely. It would only be a moment, and no one would be the wiser.

The pillows hugged his aching head. Patton felt frustrated, with himself, mostly. He was frustrated that he was letting it get to him so badly. He should have been able to do something as simple as laundry without having to lie down. He knew that he wasn't nearly as strong as Roman, but he was starting to sleep in longer than Virgil, and that was a bit worrying. He had promised himself that he was going to push through, that he'd make sure not to let it get the best of him. So far, he was failing miserably. He just had no energy anymore, and his weight was slipping down in numbers at an alarming rate.

When he eventually found the strength to get back up again, and hoist the basket into the air once more, he couldn't feel his hands.

\--

Patton hid.

Patton hid the christmas presents in the back of his bedroom closet, and the Crofters inside empty cereal boxes so that Logan wouldn't eat it all in one day. Patton hid in the worst spots during hide-and-seek, and was always found first. Patton hid his smile when he saw Roman and Logan give each other a hug for the first time, and he hid how much it hurt when Virgil explained how he didn't really like Patton's cute nicknames for him. Patton hid lots of things.

Patton hid his secrets under his beanie.

The laundry tumbled into the washing machine in a blur before his eyes. He pressed it down compact inside the machine, and reached for the detergent. A slightly shaky hand unscrewed the cap, and carefully measured out the right amount of soap into the lid, which had guideline marks on the inside. He filled it to the fourth line, and drained it into the funnel beside the basin of the washing machine. The lid was tapped gently against the rim of the funnel, encouraging the last drops out, before it was screwed back into place on the top of the bottle that Patton hadn't remembered being so heavy before.

He reached up, and tugged his yellow pride off of his head, and dropped it with his dignity onto the top of the load. He closed the lid after it, pressing start, trying to ignore how much colder he felt without it.

Patton squeezed his hand closed into a fist, feeling the stickiness of spilled detergent on his hands. It always found a way to leak, no matter how careful he was. He sighed, and headed for the washroom, nudging the now empty laundry basket aside with his foot. After this, perhaps he'd go get some apple juice, and sit down for a while. He could watch some of the cartoons that his friend Emile kept recommending to him, maybe. Something where he could just recuperate. He flicked on the lights with his clean hand, and turned on the water. He pumped the soap twice, his hands were a bit tingly now, as they were slowly regaining feeling in the fingertips. He washed his hands, and hummed softly to himself.

He glanced up at himself in the mirror, and felt his eyes well up in tears. He looked so... gray. His skin was clammy, and losing the lively flush it used to have. His eyes were fighting to stay open, and his lips were cracked. He looked so dead without his beanie. It kept him looking bright. Without it, anyone could see how unwell he really was. Anyone could see the chunks of brown hair missing from Patton's scalp.

\--

Patton told.

Patton told jokes, and stories. Patton told Thomas his favourite pasta recipes, and Logan when he'd been working for too long, and it was time to take a break. Patton told Virgil that everything would be okay, and Roman that he was more than good enough. Patton told secrets at sleepovers, and he told everyone that he was fine. Patton told people lots of things.

Patton told no one about the cancer.

Patton said nothing when he got the diagnosis from his doctor. Leukemia, they'd said. They had a treatment for him, but it would be painful. They didn't tell him that it would take away his strength, his genuine smiles, and his ability to feel warm, to feel _whole_.

Patton was silent when he'd cried that night, and promised himself that he wouldn't burden any of the others. They already had enough to worry about.

He spoke not a word when his hair started falling out. He bought himself a beanie instead. He picked one that reminded him of happiness and positivity, one that reminded him of who he used to be, the person who was quickly dissipating in the mirror. Patton was protected by his armour of wool. With it, he was impenetrable. From the outside, anyway, not from the enemy inside his own blood.

Patton prayed quietly for some sort of solution for when the hat would no longer hide his hair loss. He knew how much he was hurting, the treatment feeling like it was suffocating him from the inside. Snuffing out his light like a cloud over the sun. The treatment was supposed to make him feel better, but all it did was make everything _worse_.

But he couldn't bear to put any of that on any of his friends. He loved them too much.

\--

So instead, Patton watched.

Patton watched as cancer scratched out his name and replaced it with its own. Patton watched as it made a home in the hollowed slopes under his eyes, hidden behind his glasses. Patton watched as it flowed like rivers through his shattered glass veins. And, with every progress report from his doctor, about how the cancer was slowly leaving, Patton watched as it took pieces of him with it.

Patton watched from his hiding place under his beanie. Patton watched Roman take the stage, and always was the first to stand in the audience of applause, even if he wobbled on his feet. Patton watched documentaries with Logan, even if he didn't understand a word it was telling him, because he would do anything as long as he got to sit by his friend's side as much as he could. Patton watched for Virgil's smile, doing everything he could to get his lips to quirk upwards, because he remembered how much he used to like smiling. Patton watched Thomas come into his own, just as Patton always knew that he could. Patton watched lots of things.

Patton watched himself fade away.


End file.
